by Tamara Gill
“Of course.” Hugo followed, wondering if Hamish’s wife’s cold manner toward him was the reason for this sudden tête-à-tête. Hamish gestured for him to sit and Hugo made himself comfortable. Thankfully, instead of tea, Hamish handed him a glass of brandy before seating himself behind his desk.
“I won’t mince my words, as I’m sure you’re aware of why I asked to talk to you privately today.”
Hugo took a sip, not willing to give way that easily, although Hamish was one of his oldest friends, so he wouldn’t dissemble for long. He wouldn’t lose his friendship over the predicament that his father had placed him in.
“You’ve been seen a couple of times around Lizzie, and your appearance here today makes me wonder what your sudden interest is about. Are you courting her?”
Hugo ran a hand through his hair, searching for how best to explain himself. “In all honesty, I’m not sure why I’m here at all. And I’m sorry if that offends you, I mean no disrespect, but when it comes to Miss Doherty I can’t seem to keep away. Even though a marriage between us may be impossible.”
The earl leaned back in his chair, his stoic visage giving away little other than annoyance. “You can never marry her why?”
Hugo sighed, hating his father more than he ever had before in his life, and there were plenty of times he’d hated the man dreadfully. His father had never taken to him as a child. Hard and painfully correct in all things, he’d pushed Hugo to do as he did. Of course, Hugo had never taken after his father, had been a free spirit like his dearly departed mama, and had rebelled. So much so that his father had won the final battle and ripped his inheritance away from him in his final blow from the grave.
“You know my uncle is on his way to London. Well, everyone in London believes it’s so he may attend my wedding to Miss Fox, who I’ll apparently offer to very soon. That is not the case. He’s arriving to take control of the money my mother brought to her marriage to my father. My sire has felled his final blow against me from six feet under and stipulated in his will that I’m to marry within twelve months, and to an heiress of no less than thirty thousand pounds. If I do not, the money goes back to my mother’s family. I only have a few weeks before the deadline, and because I’ve not married as yet, my uncle now assumes that I will not–hence his arrival.”
Lord Leighton let out a whistle, his eyes wide in shock. Hugo nodded. “So, you see, I shouldn’t be here and yet I also cannot stay away.”
“Lizzie is my cousin, and under my charge whenever her mother leaves town. Katherine and I care for her deeply, look out for her just as if she was one of our own children. You know she has no dowry and therefore cannot meet the stipulation in your father’s will.” Lord Leighton stood, coming around the desk and taking his glass. He refilled them both before handing his back to him. “As much as I sympathize with your predicament, I cannot allow you to continue to court Lizzie, or give her any hope. She deserves a marriage of love and I’ll not have her marry anyone, not even you, my friend, if there is no affection. You may be as you’ve always been–distant friends, people who move within the same set–but do not venture any further from those rules. I would be most displeased if you did.”
The thread of steel in his friend’s voice brooked no argument. Hugo could understand. Hell, should he be in Hamish’s situation right now, he would say the exact same thing. But the thought of removing himself from Lizzie’s sphere, courting Miss Fox, and entering a marriage of convenience wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. “Of course, I shall do as you bid. Allow me some grace in pulling away from Miss Doherty. She’s innocent in all of this, and if I can I will try to limit the hurt I may cause by ceasing my interest.” The thought of not being near her left a hollow void in his gut.
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now,” the earl said, downing his drink. “I had better make an appearance at my wife’s at home or I shall be in the doghouse.”
Hugo stood, placing his crystal glass on the desk. “I’ll see myself out.”
He left, climbing up into his carriage that stood waiting at the front of the townhouse. This was for the best. Lord Leighton was right, and he’d been wrong in his dealings with Lizzie Doherty. It was a cold comfort knowing he would never hold her in his arms ever again.
A week later, Lizzie hadn’t seen or spoken to Lord Wakely. Not since she saw him leave her cousin’s townhouse looking like the sky had fallen and he was trapped beneath it. Katherine had let it slip that the viscount had spoken to Hamish prior to leaving, and not for the first time she wondered what that conversation was about.
They were friends of course, so it could’ve been about anything, but something told her it had involved her. And whatever her cousin said had made Lord Wakely leave in much lower spirits than when he’d arrived.
Tonight she was attending the Duncannons’ annual ball. Across the room she spied her friend Sally, who waved and started toward her, weaving through those who stood between them.
“Lizzie, how lovely to see you again. I had hoped you would attend tonight. The gossip throughout London is all about Lord Wakely and his sudden arrival at Lady Leighton’s at home last week. He left just as I arrived. How long did he stay for?”
“I have heard I’m the latest on-dit, and truly, he didn’t stay long enough to cause all this drama. And since his departure, we’ve not seen him again,” Lizzie said, hoping to put to rest any gossip, although by the curious looks she was gaining from those in attendance tonight, her wish didn’t look to be coming to fruition.
“Come and sit, it’ll be more comfortable a little away from this terrible crush.” Sally pulled her toward a couple of vacant chairs and sat, tapping the chair for Lizzie to do so also.
“I heard that the viscount came and spoke to you and no one else, and that after he left he was seen entering Lord Leighton’s library. Do you think he’s going to offer for you?” Sally clasped her hand, her excitement over the prospect of Lord Wakely asking for Lizzie to marry him too much to stifle.
“Sally, I need to tell you something, but you must promise not to tell another living soul. Ever. If you speak a word of what I’m about to tell you I will be ruined in society forever.”
Sally’s eyes widened and for a moment she didn’t say a word, before she crossed her fingers. “I will never tell anyone. Not that I need to promise such a thing, as I would never break my trust with you, but you may be assured I promise never to tell another living soul.”
Satisfied, Lizzie ensured they were alone before she told her friend all of what had happened at Lady X’s estate–how she came to be there and what happened over the ensuing days. Never had she seen her friend without words, but it would seem that after hearing every little detail Sally Darwin was totally mute.
“Say something, please, anything. Your silence concerns me.”
Sally let out a sigh before she said, “And now that you’re back in London, what is it exactly that’s between you? He’s most definitely seeking you out, but you do know that he’s still being seen in the presence of Miss Fox? I don’t have to tell you that Lord Wakely is known within the ton as a bit of a rake, easily led and not the most trustworthy when it comes to the female sex.”
“Lord Wakely and I have decided to remain friends and that is all. I’m mindful of him, do not despair, I’m not blind. Especially with his courting of Miss Fox, which was quite ardent prior to what happened in the country between us. It leaves me wondering if he’s in need of funds.”
“He’s wealthy though, my dear, so that cannot be the reason. He either wishes for more coin to add to his coffers or perhaps he holds some affection for her.” Sally frowned toward the dancers and guests milling about them. “Or there is something we do not know and that he isn’t telling anyone. I did hear that his uncle is coming over from New York. Maybe something is afoot in his family.”
Lizzie couldn’t help but chuckle at Sally and her wayward thoughts. She had always had a great imagination and saw possibilities of things where
Lizzie could see none.
“Whatever it is, I have no dowry, and although my cousin is titled, my own family line is not. Unless someone falls in love with me, I will not marry.” And when that special someone did fall in love with her, then and only then would they find out just how wealthy she was. Otherwise she would gleefully buy her own townhouse, take in any stray cats that needed a home, and be quite content with the situation.
“Whatever has happened between you, either in the country or now back in town, the one question you should be asking yourself is if you like him enough to try and help him on. Turn his attention to you fully, so that he’ll forget Miss Fox and her fortune and want you instead. It’s happened before–it can happen again.”
Lizzie doubted it would happen to her, but the thought had crossed her mind. How she would love to have Lord Wakely to wake up beside every morning, be the whole center of his affections. She sighed. “And if I throw myself at him and he still marries Miss Fox? What then?” Well, then she’d be unmarriable. Was the risk of being in Lord Wakely’s arms again worth it?
Sally clasped her hand, gaining her attention. “No one need ever know you set out on this course. Not if you’re careful. Lord Wakely could be the other half to your soul. Don’t you think seeing if that is true is worth the risk?”
Lizzie didn’t know what to do. It was such a gamble. Could she encourage his lordship into kissing her again, being more than friends as they had agreed? Remembering their time at Lady X’s, and then again when he was in the carriage with her in town, something told her it wouldn’t be that hard at all.
“He is rumored to be arriving tonight. A perfect opportunity to put your plan into action.”
“Your plan,” Lizzie said, smiling. Hope blossomed within her and excitement thrummed in her veins at the thought of seeing him again. “Do you know what, Sally? I think I shall throw caution aside and see what will happen. I’m sick of sitting about, waiting for my true love to find me. Maybe he needs a little help. A little push.”
Sally nodded. “I agree. And if I’m not mistaken, your quarry has just entered.”
Lizzie bit her lip, looking toward the ballroom doors. Lord Wakely stood on the threshold, bowing to their hosts, and all she could do was take in his glorious beauty. His dark, wicked looks, his striking height and immaculate evening dress. Nerves pooled in her stomach. It was one thing to kiss a man with a mask on, thinking no one would know who you were, but it was another thing entirely to kiss him without any pretence. But if it meant that she would kiss Lord Wakely and possibly find he was the man for her, she would. It was a pleasurable sacrifice she was willing to commit, and maybe even commit tonight.
Hugo surveyed the Duncannons’ ballroom floor and spotted the very bane and sole center of his attention sitting next to her closest friend. Both women seemed to be enjoying the ball, but their conversation appeared to be keeping them separate from everyone else and, if anything, appeared a little secretive.
Hugo found himself grinning and making his way into the room. He started in Lizzie’s direction, wanting to see her again no matter that only a few days ago he’d promised Hamish he’d stay away. But tonight Lord Leighton was attending another ball, and therefore wouldn’t know Hugo was about to ask his cousin to dance.
He bowed before Lizzie and Miss Darwin, who stood and curtsied. “Good evening, Miss Doherty, Miss Darwin. I thought I might ask Miss Doherty to dance. The waltz is up next.” Hugo held out his hand, waiting for Lizzie to take it.
She looked at it for a time, her eyes wide, before placing her hand in his, allowing him to escort her out onto the ballroom floor. The room was a crush, and instead of going out to dance, he led Lizzie toward the terrace doors. With so many in attendance, very few paid them any attention of the direction they were heading. Before anyone could take note he whisked Miss Doherty outside, to stroll along the flagstone courtyard.
The night air was warm and in the distance the sounds of London and its life echoed through the night. Other couples strolled as well, and Hugo led Lizzie away from them to ensure privacy.
“I have not seen you for some days and I apologize for that. My time has not been my own with my uncle’s expected arrival some time in the next few days. There are other things that have taken up my time, but I had to see you again.” How he wished he could tell her why he should not be before her, wanting her as much as he did. He fought not to lift his hand and place a little strand of her hair off her cheek. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, make her his.
“The Season is busy, you don’t need to explain anything to me.” She took a couple of steps away and studied the shadowed garden before them. A bird cooed in the dark and a small smile lifted her lips. How beautiful she was. How had he never seen it before? If only he’d not been so involved satisfying his own pleasures, he might have made Lizzie his wife years ago and his father would never have done what he did.
“I want to kiss you,” he blurted out, unable to take his words back. Nor did he want to. They were the truth. He wanted her, and upon his uncle’s arrival he would beseech him to ignore his father’s will, allow Hugo to keep his inheritance and marry Miss Doherty who had not a penny to her name.
She didn’t turn to look at him and her strong resolve made him adore her even more.
“I want to kiss you too. In fact, I’ve thought of little else since I left the house party.”
Her words were a blow to his gut and he moved closer, sliding his hand along the balustrade to the point where they just touched. The moment his finger touched hers it shot a bolt of longing so strong and fierce it threatened to knock him off his feet.
Hugo looked behind him and noted there were fewer couples than before, but the terrace doors remained open and hundreds of people were only a few feet from where they stood. Anyone could walk out at any time, and yet, he had to taste her. His body was blocking a lot of the guests from seeing Lizzie. Maybe a chaste kiss would be possible, if they both desired it.
“Kiss me,” he said, laying his hand atop hers, linking their fingers. “No one will see.”
Lizzie glanced behind him and then, when he thought she’d thought better of his idea, she leaned up and quickly but quietly kissed him. The chaste touching of their lips wasn’t enough, and even though he tried to deepen the embrace, she pulled away, again checking to see if anyone saw.
That there were no cries of scandal told Hugo no one had witnessed them.
“Tell me something, anything, to stop me from ruining us both and taking you in my arms in front of all the ton.” Hugo straightened, holding his arms behind his back.
“What would you like to know?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
“Everything I do not know already.”
She turned and leaned against the balustrade, watching him. “Well, I’m on the shelf, but you already know that. I’m three and twenty and have very little to recommend but myself. I enjoy horse riding and travel, and I volunteer at the London Relief Society for the Duchess of Athelby and their set. I have no siblings and my mother is controlling and pushy. Not that I should speak about my parent in such a way, but yet it is true. I love cats and will tolerate dogs.”
Hugo barked out a laugh. “How can you only tolerate dogs? They are the best of company. They never judge, and will give unconditional love.”
“Hmm.” She shrugged. “But they’re awfully pouty, I find. Always wanting affection and reaffirmation about what a good boy or girl they are. Whereas cats, well, they’re independent, strong, wilful, and do not care what anyone thinks. I suppose I strive to be very similar to the species. I no longer wish to care what anyone thinks of me.”
“Really?” Hugo wagged his brows. “Is that true? For some, should they know we’re outside having an indiscreet tête-à-tête, would have a lot to say about you. In fact, you’d probably end up in one of the gossip rags that will come out next week.”
“I’m willing to risk all if it means that I get what I want.” She met his gaze and th
e dark determination in her blue orbs fired his blood. Did she mean him? Did she wish to fight for him?
Her words strengthened his resolve to beseech his uncle to leave his mother’s money well alone so he could marry her. The idea of starting a life with a woman who not only stimulated his mind but his body calmed his soul.
“My horses are in need of a good run. I’m taking the gig out tomorrow, a couple of hours in the country to see how they perform. Would you be willing to accompany me?”
“Alone?” she asked.
He nodded. “If your mama will allow.”
“There is no impediment if you have a driver and groom with you to act as chaperones. Mama will approve such an outing.”
“Eleven then,” he said, watching as she pushed away from the balustrade and headed back into the ballroom. He followed her progress, enjoying what he saw. Tomorrow he would have her to himself for a couple of hours, where they could talk freely and maybe continue the delightful kissing that had brought them together to begin with.
Chapter 11
Lizzie woke with a start, and sitting up, she jumped out of bed. The day trip into the country with Lord Wakely beckoned and she couldn’t wait to see him again.
Last night, after she’d kissed him, chaste as it was, she was left longing for more, and with the realization that she wasn’t willing to allow his lordship to marry anyone else but her. The uncontrollable feeling of floating whenever she was about him, the desire to see his eyes darken in hunger, was something she wasn’t willing to lose. Not to a Miss Fox and her thousands of pounds in any case. That woman could marry whomever she pleased, and it did not please Lizzie for her to marry Lord Wakely.
At the allocated hour she paced the hall of Lord Leighton’s home, watching the traffic for his lordship’s gig. Right on time, his driver accompanied by a groom pulled up before the steps with four matched horses. The gig was not any run-of-the-mill vehicle, but a barouche box.
